


Stay With Me

by inkingbrushes (orphan_account)



Category: The Mortal Instruments
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, Romance, a bit of humor to ease the pain?, love and all that mushy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/inkingbrushes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post COHF (slight spoilers). Oneshot. - Magnus wonders about time and magic and love and how his heart could have handled all that intensity for one stupid little Shadowhunter with the bluest eyes he's ever seen who's promised to stay with him - "Always."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> SLIGHT SPOILERS TO COHF (if you squint). If you don't want to be spoiled then don't read, or if that doesn't matter then, like, go ahead.
> 
> Anyway, I reposted this from my FF account just to give my AO3 more life. Hah. Anyway, here's what I think is my final MaLec fanfiction. The last book has been released and it was beautiful and there were tears and my boys were lovely and wonderful and it was just, yes. Okay. Anyway. Read. Enjoy. I'm sorry in advanced for what lies ahead. :) xx

_“Alec is my future.”_

_\--_

He didn’t expect it to hit this hard, to have so much just rush against him, to be so swept off his feet that he found himself stumbling, barely able to go a day without thinking about all of the “what ifs”, and “thank yous”. He didn’t expect to be pulled in so deep that getting out was nearly impossible and something he wasn’t too sure he wanted to do.

Magnus Bane was timeless and in the centuries he had walked the Earth, there were only two things he was sure of: time and magic. Time was something he seemed to have – never running out; endless. Magic, another byproduct of his circumstances, of what he was. It came hand in hand with the amount of time – the abundance of it – he had. Once, he thought that love was one of the surest things he knew about, that it was something he could have held on to, thought that if he loved them intensely then seeing them leave him would be a relief, somewhat, for had he not just given them all of his heart for a fraction of his limitless life?

Love wasn’t anything at all like great literature penned it for – it was even more, he had learned. Centuries of magic, of endless time – of more trouble than he had ever dreamed of and love that he could not believe in at first. Because what good was an immortal to his mortal lover? The world, it seemed, as he had also learned. Because love was a different kind of power and if he played his cards just right then he might get out of it alive, scratched, wounded, of course, but he would survive.

That was what he had thought the first few times he had given himself to a lover. He survived; his heart may have lost a tiny, little piece but he survived and wasn’t that the goal to the kind of life he lived? But it wasn’t the case for very long because when you survive long enough you’ll start to want to live and to live is to die.

With his countless lovers, Magnus had thought that the next one, decades after his last mortal love that had died, in her last moments barely able to say his name, would be easier. He was older, had suffered more grievances in love, had drowned himself in such deep sorrow that the next one would be just like all the other ones – it would hurt, love wasn’t just supposed to bring him just joy, it would make him feel – and it would be painful but it wouldn’t be unmanageable. It wasn’t as if his heart hadn’t already taken more blows that another one wouldn’t matter. Just another bruise, just another corner of it chipped off.

But he was wrong on that. For centuries he had acquired wealth and power, had learned to conduct himself, connected to the right people, cut off all the weeds that threatened to ruin his garden of poison. He had so many centuries of experience behind him but the moment Alexander Lightwood told him he loved him for the first time, Magnus felt a string pull at his heart, a feeling he had nearly forgotten from not having felt it for so long already. After the first few pulls at his bruised and tired heart, his veins started to sing and his throat closed up, because, god, he knew all along, didn’t he, that Alec wouldn’t be like the rest? He was the first of so many things.

Alec Lightwood had brought life back into Magnus’ heart. It never beat right, he knew, but having Alec, he found that it beat stronger, as if just having the Shadowhunter in his life made him want to push for life, made him want to say fuck it to surviving and yes to living. It was excitement and joy he could barely contain. It was passion and pleasure and such intense love that Magnus wondered about the state of his heart; bruised little fellow, but it was stronger now, wasn’t it? And how it had not burst at the seams of the love it was containing for one stupid, blue eyed Nephilim he did not know but he was thankful for it – that it kept beating.

Magnus Bane was happy, really, truly happy.

Their relationship had been through hell and back – and he was using that in the literal sense. They had survived so much pain that they came out of it alive and still together. For a moment, Magnus was afraid of losing Alec forever. But who knew that coming clean and opening up, just telling the goddamn truth for once, was the solution to most of their problems? It seemed crazy, he thought, if Alec found out about his past – bits and pieces of it, particular events that he remembered, almost in vivid detail, if he tried to recall them. Wouldn’t he hate him? When he handed all of that, when he opened himself up first to him, he thought Alec would turn away and leave because who could love someone as broken as him? He had power yes, and magic and so much time he wished he could share it, but did he have the strength to get up after Alec had given him his final answer?

That was one of the “what ifs” Magnus didn’t really like to think about, because for a second he thought it would happen. For a second he thought that it would all be over, and all because of him.

The next second that followed it was relief that came at him like a broken dam.

He could be happy again, he had Alec, and they had their lives ahead of them. They both swore then, under the stars and with victory looming just above them, that they would make each and every day count. Magnus had made a little promise to himself back then, too, that he would not let anything happen to him, if it came to that.

\--

_“I don’t want the world, I want you.”_

_\--_

“Alec, love, your phone’s been ringing.” Nonstop, Magnus might add, but he kept the snide little remark to himself and slid the phone across the counter to Alec, who caught it just before it slipped off the edge. He turned back to the coffee he was trying to figure out, trying to keep busy.

How was it that those expensive coffee shops got their coffee just short of perfect while he struggled with the basics here at home? It was powdered coffee, how easy could it get? Apparently, even coffee wasn’t something he was skilled at, his mind instantly reeling back to all the times Alec passed him an already steaming mug. Right, just a snap of his fingers and he’d have his morning’s worth, but no, apparently, the messy kitchen was worth it if only for his own satisfaction.

He barely heard anything Alec was saying, apparently already done with the call. When he turned back to look at him, Alec was already slipping into his boots, a bow slung on his back and his weapons belt still dangling on a chair. Magnus set the cup down (it was terrible and Alec was leaving, and honestly, the only reason he had tried so hard was to prove to the Shadowhunter he was damn well capable of making his own early morning coffee.) and grabbed at the belt, waiting for Alec to finish with his laces.

“A pack of them, Jace said,” Alec was murmuring, blue eyes clouded. He stepped closer towards Magnus, fitting in gloves and allowing the warlock to wound the belt around his waist, securely snapping it shut and giving it a small pat, a sly little smile just at the edge of his lips. Alec caught the look and rolled his eyes, “Really?”

Magnus just gave a shrug, as if to say – ‘Yeah, really.’ – and pulled the Shadowhunter closer by the belt loops, Alec almost stumbling as he tried to draw a rune on his arm (he really did get ready fast, didn’t he?).

“Be careful,” Magnus hummed, nuzzling softly against Alec’s neck, placing one tender kiss just beneath the ear.

Alec finally finished with the run and slid his stele into a pocket, finally looking at Magnus. “I always am,” He said this carefully and quietly, the seriousness of what he was saying clear. “Don’t worry.” He pressed his thumb gently against Magnus’ cheek, the warlock leaning in to the touch.

“I always do,” Magnus said, knowing that there was trouble and danger in literally every corner and that with Alec’s job, the danger to his life was much more, something the rest of them almost forgot about simply because it was the normal for them. Get out of the Institute, of their houses, anywhere, to fend off demons with the knowledge that it might be their last, that they might get themselves killed. Magnus knew that he could not change that, that he could not lock Alec up in the apartment (however tempting that was) because this was who he was, a Shadowhunter, and Magnus could not change that, could not lessen the danger even if he wanted to. But he could worry, and he worried all the time whenever Alec left, his chest constricting in the hours that he was absent, only seeming to breathe when he heard the door to the apartment open and saw the Shadowhunter kicking off his boots before leaning down for a quick peck on the cheek.

Alec closed his eyes and leaned towards Magnus, their foreheads touching. He gave himself this one second and Magnus relished in that. “And I’ll be fine,” He finally said, blue eyes meeting his own. “Promise.” He kissed him once, thumb running down his cheek, before he stepped away and smiled. “And I know that coffee’s bad, so you can just save the act and go snap yourself a Starbucks.”

And with that, he stepped out the door, leaving Magnus laughing dryly to himself as he glared at the accusing cup of coffee.

\--

“I told you to be – “ Magnus didn’t even try to finish what he was saying because the ferocity in Alec’s glare was enough to have him bite the words back. Instead, he rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I just – “

Again, he wasn’t able to finish what he was trying to say as Alec gave his head a little shake. “I know, but this is hardly cause for much panic, I just – “ He gestured to his bandaged leg. “It’s gonna heal in a bit, I’m not even sure the bandages was necessary.”

The bandages were just an added dramatic effect because Magnus was far too bored and didn’t take the bad coffee joke well. He was even tempted not to heal the boy, just have him sit down still for a few hours while Magnus had his way with him. But, alas, love was not so selfish that it drove Magnus to such despicable acts, so instead of saying anything else, he bent down, his fingers combing through Alec’s hair, pushing his fringe out of his face before giving his forehead a pressing kiss. “The bandages are a lie,” he said, a bit too smugly, to which Alec only rolled his eyes.

“I know. Your coffee’s still bad, though.” Alec’s comment was met with a pillow to his face. He reached for Magnus, shoving the pillow off the bed and caught the warlock at his thin wrists, pulling him closer. Magnus had propped his leg on a dozen of their overstuffed pillows and had the Shadowhunter leaning against a dozen more (did they really not run out of pillows, like, ever?). Magnus happily obliged, falling none too lightly on Alec’s stomach.

“Never joke about my cooking,” Magnus said, trying to sound menacing.

Alec nodded, “Of course, because that would require you to have any skill to begin with, but as you do not, then joking about a completely nonexistent – Ow!” Magnus had pinched his cheek to stop him from talking and used his elbow as leverage to lean up at Alec. “I love you?”

Magnus plopping back down on Alec’s chest was enough indication that the warlock had accepted the apology. Cuddling into his dramatically wounded boyfriend, Magnus snickered. “Yes, darling, and the things you must do for love.”

It was Alec who was playing with his hair now, giving an audible sigh. “Like believe in your nonexistent cooking skills?”

Magnus’ grin was answer enough, “Exactly.”

\--

“I’ve got to go, Magnus,” Alec said softly, careful not to startle the warlock awake.

Magnus shifted in his sleep and Alec quickly leaned down to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. Just as he leaned up, getting ready to leave, a hand shot out from the covers and pulled him back. Magnus twined their fingers together, giving it a brief nuzzle of his cheek, “Be careful, darling.” He said, voice still heavy of sleep.

He heard Alec breathe in deeply before he breathed out, his breath seeming to rattle against his very bones. “I will,” he finally said after a few moments. “I promise.”

When Magnus blinked past the sleep to focus on Alec, the Shadowhunter gave him a smile. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back by breakfast, probably.” And with that, he pulled his hand gently out of Magnus’ own, tucked the warlock back into bed and stepped out.

\--

_“I’ll be back by breakfast, probably.”_

\--

Alec was not back by breakfast.

When Magnus got the call, it wasn’t even six yet and just barely past an hour after Alec had left. He scrambled out of bed, fingers grabbing at the sheets to find his phone before he went over his vanity, knocking over a dozen or so bottles just to retrieve the ringing mobile in the midst of it. The voice that greeted him was far from cheery (well, it was barely morning so he supposed the other person could reserve a little bit of morning sunshine for, well, the actual morning, but it was Magnus getting rudely woken up here and not - )

He had barely enough time to step into his shoes, having mistaken Alec’s boots for his own (on a normal day he would be appalled but today was far from normal, it seemed) and the shirt he had on was the same thing he had slept on, the coat that hung from his shoulders loose and short on the sleeves – Alec’s – but he hadn’t enough time to worry about that because within the minute that the call had ended, Magnus was already stepping into a portal and tumbling out into the field.

Managing to catch his footing, the first thing he noticed was the smell of the place. It looked like it had once been a park – he could barely remember the place Clary had mentioned over the phone. It wasn’t so much as a park now as it was a smoldering mess. The trees were burned, the small church just in the middle of it dark with soot and the very ground he was stepping on was charred leaves.

He spotted them immediately – two groups.

Clary and Jace were pushing the demon back into a corner, the demon heavily wounded and weakened. Magnus’ heart started to race as he realized just what it was – a greater demon. Before the name could register, he heard his name, Isabelle’s voice high and shrill.

Magnus was immediately by her side, a hand on her shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the damage. Of course, of course, of course it would be this bad – it was a greater demon. Hadn’t Alec had enough run ins with greater demons? Hadn’t he already fought his fair share of the damned beings?

“Magnus, please.” Isabelle was stubborn and though she tried, she didn’t have it in her anymore to restrain the pain and the fear that she felt. “You have to help him, Alec’s been – Magnus, please. The poison’s been spreading.”

Isabelle’s arms trembled as she tried to keep hold of Alec. Tears were visibly running down her dirty face, teeth biting down her lip, making it bleed.

Magnus didn’t have it in him to speak, but he knew he had to act. The moment he knelt down on the ground to take Alec away from her, Isabelle almost broke into tears.

“Izzy, I just contacted the Institute, they can’t send back-up so we have to – “ It was Simon, voice calmed and controlled. The once-mundane had gone through so much that the control he still had over his voice was astonishing. He grabbed Isabelle by the shoulder and hauled her up, gesturing to where Clary and Jace were. “We have to go finish it up. Magnus is here, he can – he’ll take care of him and - ” Simon looked down at Magnus, whose hands were already glowing. He couldn’t finish what he was going to say, instead, just drew a blade and turned to run towards the other two, Isabelle looking back and forth at the two groups.

“Go,” Magnus said, more of an order for her to get away so that he could collect himself. He did not want her to see him break, not now, not when his strength was needed the most.

He laid Alec gently down on the ground and stared at the wound, a gaping one just beneath his chest. It was ugly and bleeding and nothing Magnus did could stop it, could close it. Magnus placed both hands against the bleeding wound, every spell he could think, ever strength and ounce of power he had going into healing the fallen Nephilim.

His blood was turning black against Magnus’ fingers and the warlock shut his eyes tight, refusing to have it end here.

“Alec,” Magnus practically choked the name out, “Alexander, darling,” he tried again, and this time, Alec stirred.

Magnus was so relieved to see those eyes open once more that he started to breathe normally again, although not at all easier. “Stay with me,” Magnus said, his palms still glowing.

He caught at Alec’s hand and had Alec leaning against him, his head on his knees as Magnus wished so violently for life, for any form of it, to be given to him, just this once, _please_.

“Stay with me.” Magnus repeated, his voice firmer now when Alec seemed to be drifting off, the shadows beneath his eyes a bruised blue. When his eyes flickered open to look up at Magnus, they had lost their usual strength; instead, it looked like with every second that passed, the life inside of them seemed to slip away, the lights dimming. “Stay with me, please, Alec.”

Magnus had power, he had magic, and he was a warlock – feared, respected, and powerful. But he was helpless against this. He couldn’t do anything about the poison that was now running so deeply in Alec’s veins that all he could do with his magic was to ease the pain, dull it, in any way he can.

Alec’s gaze didn’t seem to waver this time as he gave Magnus’ hand a weak squeeze.

The warlock looked down at Alec, wishing against all else that it was the other way around. He had lived so many centuries already and knew of enough pain to welcome death. He knew that while death wasn’t a foreign subject to him, that it shouldn’t even hurt anymore, saying goodbye to Alec would. If he had gone first, the most horrible thing about it would be to lose the boy.

But that wasn’t the case. It wouldn’t be the case. Magnus was fighting a losing battle. His hands began to shake and the tears started to well up as his breathing became shallow.

“Stay with me, darling,” Magnus whispered, bending down to grasp Alec’s face now, holding him steady.

Alec, with all the strength he had left in him, raised a hand up to cup Magnus’ face. “Always,” his voice was barely above a whisper but Magnus heard him as clear as day. Alec’s fingers swiped at the tears, a look of worry on his face.

The Shadowhunter was dying and here he was worrying about a stupid warlock’s tears.

All of the effort it took for Alec to simply raise his hand had been of his last strength and he winced, his hand slipping. Magnus caught it, pressing it against his cheek, nails practically digging into the flesh of Alec’s own.

Alec’s hand was barely warm now, his eyes practically losing its blue. He felt Alec’s thumb graze at his cheek before the Shadowhunter closed his eyes. “I promise.”

Alec did not die that very instant, and Magnus had no idea when, can’t even recall. But the Shadowhunter was still barely breathing when Isabelle pulled him out of the warlock’s hands, willing Alec to look at her.

He didn’t.

\--

 

 


End file.
